Takin' a Train
by betteroffred
Summary: Set during 'Rock and Roll Express', Jetta's not at all happy about being stuck on the train. JettaPizzazz femmeslash, some 'language'. Beta'd by Stormkpr, thank you!


I thought she had looked good in the jump suit but... Well, alright, I hadn't been wrong. Pizzazz in a jumpsuit, even one so tacky as she'd been wearing, was hot. Technically it wasn't really a jumpsuit being that it was two pieces and made of leather. "Biker Bitch Leathers", then. The top jacket part she sloughed off and tossed aside, revealing a skin tight leather cat suit underneath. I'd seen her ride more motorcycles in the outfit than work on them. It still struck me as jumpsuit-like. No matter. Made me want to con her in to taking up mechanics as a hobby just to see her in the outfit more often. Preferably with nothing but flimsy lingerie on underneath. God, see, it's thinking like this that spawns all those ridiculous music videos. Not that I'm complaining, mind you.

"Aw, what's-a-matta, Jetta?" Pizzazz cooed in my ear, slipping behind me in the cramped quarters we'd been shoved into on the train. I'd never call it a handout , but let's face it, Jem was essentially giving us Misfits a handout . After our plane had wrecked we'd been stranded. If Jem and her pastel colored lot hadn't offered us a ride on their train, we'd have been sun baked and picked over by the vultures by now.

I was beginning to think the vultures were a nice alternative. If I had to hear that bloody awful 'Taking a Train' song being rehearsed ONE MORE TIME I was going to lose it. Pizzazz's words hadn't even registered in my brain. "Hm?"

Vibrant green eyes met mine, stared at me with a ponderous gaze. "You look pissed," she said. I suppose that was her idea of asking me if anything was wrong. What wasn't?

I watched Pizzazz go through her bag. I was hot, irritated, dusty, hungry... Not to mention that we'd just been in a plane wreck. All the syrupy pop music that blared out of every intercom on the rotten train had me climbing the walls. I think the Holograms were doing that solely out of spite, though no doubt they would deny it if you put the question to them. They actually like that drivel they call music.

"Bloody hot in here," I grumbled, picking the most immediate of irritations to clue her in on. I fanned myself with one hand and leaned against the wall, watching her. Two of Pizzazz's fingers took hold of the cat suit's zipper and tugged. Down, down, down it went. Her back was too me, more's the pity. Hot indeed...

"Tell me about it. I feel like--" Pizzazz grunted and peeled herself half way out of the suit. It was like watching her shed a highly oiled and gleaming black skin. I love Pizzazz, leave it to her to have nothing at all on underneath the thing. I actually smiled in spite of being in such a foul mood. Mostly freed of the tight garment, she finished her thought, "Like I just rolled around in a ditch."

That was something I had no doubt our fearless leader had much experience in, and I told her so and cited possible reasons why she may have done so in the past in none-too-friendly tones.

"Jesus, Jet-Girl, don't get your panties in a bunch. Nobody died," Pizzazz glanced at me over her bare shoulder, winked at me.

I looked away. She still thought I was mad about the plane crashing. I probably should have been; any reasonable person would have been furious. But no, leave that to Roxy. Drop me out of the sky any day, as long as I can walk away from it. It was these tight spaces I had no love for, spaces like this little cabin room we were forced to share on the train.

Not that I minded sharing a room with Pizzazz, not for a second.

Pizzazz reached for the capped bottle of water she'd thrown on the bed. She opened it up and took a long drink before grabbing handfuls of paper towels and wetting them. Something else I love about Pizzazz; she doesn't possess an ounce of shame in her whole body. There she was, naked to the waist giving herself a sponge bath with a wad of sopping paper towels without a shred of concern about what a sight she must be. I doubt she'd have cared either way, Pizzazz has a fantastic figure and loves to flaunt it. She pressed the cool wet papers to her face and groaned. It was dead sexy and oh-so trashy all at the same time. It was all I could do not to drool.

"Here, give me that water. I'll get your back," I said, ripping several fresh paper towels free from the roll.

The singer turned, handed me the water bottle, looked me once over and smiled. "What a dear," she murmured with a hint of sarcasm, as she turned back around and pulled her hair up with both hands. "This stupid outfit is hot as hell. I LOOK fantastic in it, so it's worth it, but I swear I'm just dripping!"

"Mm," she wasn't the only one, I mused, though undoubtedly this would not have been news to Pizzazz. I smiled at her, though with her back to me she couldn't see it. Careful not to dump the contents on the floor I soaked my makeshift sponge and began to wipe down her shoulders. Ran the cool wet mess down her spine, up her sides, loving the way she felt under my hands.

"Oh god, that feels great," the singer said and I wasn't sure whether she was talking about getting moderately clean or about me and my less than subtle groping. I didn't care, she owed me for a shitty day. I stepped up closer to her and let my hands fall to her hips.

"You're right about the outfit," I told her, bringing my lips up close to her ear.

Pizzazz laughed soflty but didn't turn around. "I knew you liked it."

I kissed the back of her neck and she inhaled sharply. Her skin was still cool from where I'd sponged her down but tasted pleasantly salty. Made me want to finish giving her a bath with my tongue. Slid my hands up to her naked breasts and--

The train lurched and we toppled forward, falling clumsily. I hit the wall with a thud and groaned in frustration. It didn't hurt as much as it drove me mad.

"God damned stupid Holograms!" Pizzazz hollered,slapping the paneled wall. "What kind of idiots decide to take a train across country anyway?"

"Better yet, what kind of idiots decide to trail after them?" The train had resumed its smooth travel and I sat up, leaned forward with my face in my hands. I felt like I might be ill.

Pizzazz snorted. "You were all for it when I suggested it back in L.A."

"Yeah, sure, but only because--" I sat up and shook my head. I exhaled and looked her square in the eyes. "It's bloody well impossible to say no to you and you know it. Alright?"

My gorgeous green-eyed monster grinned, obviously pleased at my remark.

"It wasn't a compliment, ducky."

"Wow, you really are in a bad mood," Pizzazz laughed. She laid a hand on my thigh and cooed in my ear, "Come on, Jet... I was just starting to have fun..."

"Yeah? Well that makes one of us," I pouted well enough to put any five year old having a tantrum (or Pizzazz) to shame.

Pizzazz rolled her eyes. "Ok, what is it? You're mad about the plane? Cuz that was an accident, it's not like I grabbed the wheel from the driver or something. The engine stalled."

"It's a pilot, not a driver, and no it's not the bloody plane that's got me upset!" I huffed. "It's this stupid train. I'm going to go out of me blinking skull if we don't get off of here soon."

Pizzazz looked amused. "Don't like train rides?"

I shot her a withering look.

She gave a sort of laugh. "What, did you have a bad experience on one when you were a kid or something?"

I shook my head but mumbled, "Something like that." Honestly, weren't the tight coridoors and cramped little rooms bad enough? But there was no way I'd tell her that. Bad enough to be having a fit in front of her like I was; no need to give her any ammunition. God knows I adore her but she's got a big mouth; I don't need her accidentally letting it slip to Roxy, not by a long shot.

The singer smiled and sat up tall next to me. She pulled my hair to one side. "Well maybe you just need to have a good experience on one, wipe out that bad memory," Pizzazz purred just like the big feral tiger she is. Her lips brushed my earlobe and sent shivers down my spine. I felt one hand at my throat suddenly, pulling at the zipper of my own grey and lavender jump suit, pulling it down slowly. "What do you say, Jetta? Want to have a really good experience on a train?" She laughed, low and throaty, all trouble. "We could raid the Hologram's wardrobe, play a little 'Cowgirls and Indians'." Pizzazz nuzzled my throat and I melted. Pizzazz is a wicked, wicked woman and I LOVE the way she thinks. "Whadda ya say?"

Have I mentioned that I have a problem saying no to Pizzazz? This is not always a bad thing.


End file.
